Watching
by slam a revolving door
Summary: [Oneshot] 'You really want them to make it work together, and you think it's because if they can make it work, you have a chance too. Because no matter how stuffed up you are, when it comes to being screwed up, no one beats House.'


Disclaimer: I do not own House yet … but it's my birthday in 9 days, so you're more than welcome to buy the characters for me for a birthday present …

Word Count: 882

Shipping: House/Cameron

POV: Cuddy.

Genre: General, slight angst, slight romance.

Reviews: If you can't afford to get me the House characters for my birthday, send me a review instead! D

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**Watching**

You really want them to make it work together and you don't know why. Or maybe you do. Maybe it's because you know that if House can make it work with Cameron, them maybe you have a chance to make it work too. Because as stuffed up as you are at relationships, when it comes to being screwed up, no one beats House. And if House can have a relationship with the person he loves – even if he doesn't know he loves her – then there's a chance you could find your Prince Charming as well. And that makes you laugh, because the idea of Gregory House being Allison Cameron's Prince Charming is so ludicrous, so absurd and yet … so true. Prince Charming was overrated anyway.

You wonder if they could ever make it work, and subconsciously you know you're asking if you can ever make it work with anyone. Because you're not like Cameron who would remain loyal forever and beyond, or like Wilson who would always start off with the noblest of intentions, then get bored … or tired … or something you can't fathom. You're not like Foreman who chooses to keep his personal life – does he have one? – directly separate from his work life, or like Chase who likes every girl he meets and loves none. You hope you're not like House, who loves and forgives so few and stays bitter and miserable for more than five years, but in all honestly, you really don't know.

The wall - the fence - that separates you from the others is subtle, but definitely there. It's always there because you're their boss. But it's glass and through it you can watch and observe, and occasionally shout suggestions, though you're never certain if they can be heard. But for most part you watch in silence. You watch while Cameron gives House her heart on a silver platter; you watch while he dashes it to the ground because he's just too scared – too scared to trust her, to scared to love her. You watch while Stacy returns, bringing Mark with her, and you watch while House retreats into his shell further. You watch while Cameron gives up, and you watch while House gives in. You watch Cameron as she falls prey to depression and that patient who convinces her that she's screwing her life up, when in fact you know that it's the patient that screwing his life up, not Cameron. And you wish more than ever that there were a way for you to get from your side of the wall to theirs and to save Cameron. And you plead silently with House to save her, but instead you watch as Chase steps in instead. And you gnash your teeth – not really, but you always wanted to use that expression – and you hit your head on the glass wall as everything spirals out of control.

Cameron was always the idealistic one, but you know that in your own way you are far too idealistic for your own good. Not outside, because you know House would mock you for it, but on the inside you know you hope for too much, and you hope for what you can never and will never have. But on most days you refuse to think that, and you refuse to let them tell you that you're building your life on a pipe dream. You're not, are you? But on those days when you let those niggling doubts creep in, you can't help but wonder when everything will come tumbling down. Because you know that the foundations you've built your life on depend on your belief in it. And sooner or later your faith will fail, it'll fail and it'll fail.

But until then you are content to watch House and Cameron's little nervous dance around each other. She'll step forward and he'll step backward, and then she'll pull away, and he'll draw closer. And that way they move in perfect harmony and it would be perfect if not for the fact that, despite the poems, songs and stories, love isn't made to be a dance, because in a dance you never get any closer to your partner. Not in the type of dance that they're performing anyway. And you want to tell them that they're being stupid and that they should stop dancing and start talking or at the very least walking hand-in-hand down a beach, because it's stupid and it's clichéd and it's everything you ever wanted for yourself. And you think it's ironic, because with his cane and his limp House cannot walk properly anyway. And you're not sure if he would be able to hold himself up on the sand and you wonder briefly if he would just fall. But you berate yourself, because you know that Cameron would hold him up, because that's what love does, doesn't it?

And for now they remain at rest, both watching each other and you watching them, and you're relieved, because you know that eventually they will gravitate together, won't they? And until then you can just wait and watch, because once they're together, you can start working on your happy ending. And when they're together, you'll know that your efforts won't be entirely in vain.

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